


Outlaws

by Unsentimentalf



Series: Outlaws [1]
Category: Robin Hood BBC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unsentimentalf/pseuds/Unsentimentalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gisborne has to get out of Nottingham, but why should Robin help him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outlaws

_ **Outlaws ** _

Title: Outlaws  
Author: Unsentimental Fool  
Fandom: BBC Robin Hood  
Pairing: Robin/Guy  
Rating: NC 17.   
Word Count: 6500  
Summary: Gisborne has to get out of Nottingham, but why should Robin help him?   
Notes/Warnings: Sex and violence all mixed up. This takes place between the end of ep 7/3 and the start of 8/3. I can never resist filling a plot hole...

 

"Forget Gisborne. He's finished."

Tuck was vehement, as usual. The others were listening, not too close, not taking sides, not yet.

"John's lost the two men who could control Nottingham. He'll never be weaker than this. We could raise an army in the city itself, under his very nose. This could be the start of it, Robin, but we've got to act now!"

Robin shook his head. Tuck was missing the point.

"He's out there somewhere, hiding from his own soldiers, hiding from John's men, hiding from us. I'm going to find him."

"For Christ's sake, Robin, weren't you listening? Gisborne's not important!

Robin was breathing deeply, hand clenched on his sword hilt. "Damn you, Tuck, never presume to tell me that! Not after Marian." He forced himself to calm a little. "Make your plans, Tuck. I'll be back when I'm done. We'll take down John if we can."

"What are you going to do when you find him? Kill him? You can't do that, Robin." Tuck was still challenging him. Was the only one who still would. There had to be a leader; he remembered Marian, when she joined them. She'd hated that, but she'd understood it, after a while. Tuck would accept it or he would send the man packing. He wasn't going to argue every point in front of the others. For now Robin was done with this conversation.

"Plans, Tuck. I'll be back in the morning." He swung his bow over his shoulders and stalked off. This time not even the friar called after him.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Guy of Gisborne had no friends.

He found this rather surprising. A few hours ago he'd had a hundred, all toasting his elevation to Sheriff. Men and women he'd entertained at Locksley, who had invited him to parties, pushed their daughters at him, turned a blind eye to what he might be doing with their sons, asked for his opinion on the major topics of the day. He'd trust not one of them now. And as for his own flesh and blood; Isabella would serve up his head on a platter to the Prince if she thought there was advancement in it, and doubtless even if she didn't. Such a grudge, over nothing more than an unhappy marriage. There were plenty of those around; had she learned nothing from their parents? No, he had come to the slightly astonishing conclusion that there was not a single soul in Nottingham who he could look to for aid to help him get out of it.

It all appeared so simple when Hood walked in and out of the city. Then, it seemed as if the guards just weren't there. Guy had nearly completed his circuit of the walls from the inside and every exit that he knew about was guarded tonight. That wasn't John; that was his own man, Rickard, his second, at work. His own pick, for competence and loyalty, and if some of that loyalty had been demonstrated in the wide curtained bed at Locksley, well, that had been no-one's business but their own. He'd trusted Rickard, but no-one else could have known where to place these guards.

Guy couldn't do this for much longer. He'd taken a long cloak as he fled the castle, but there were plenty of people in the city- his city, damn it!- who would recognise him under the black hood. There was no chance of getting past his own guards. He was going to have to find somewhere to spend the night within the walls and right now he was all out of ideas. He'd never thought that he could be reduced to such helplessness within Nottingham itself.

Guy pulled the cloak closer around his shoulders, tipped the hood forward, walked down the nearest alley in the early dusk, alert for guards, for thieves, for anyone. Still the voice from the shadows startled him.

"Having some trouble, Gisborne?"

It was Hood, of course, who stepped out into the street in front of him. Armed, Guy noticed in that first glance; bow over his shoulder, sword at his side, his hand on the hilt. Guy could draw in the same instant, attack, but then what? A commotion and the guards appearing, Hood no doubt vanishing in the same instant to leave him captured. He forced his hand away from his sword..

"What do you want?"

The outlaw was grinning at him, apparently relaxed. "I've been watching you trying to get out of the city. The guard tonight is as heavy as I've ever seen it; John wants you badly, it appears. He didn't take kindly to being called a pretender, I imagine."

"So?" Guy knew how much trouble he was in, He didn't need this man of all people to tell him.

"So follow me." Hood turned his back to Gisborne, making the man's sword hand twitch again. Three, four steps and he could cut Robin Hood down. Guy shook his head slightly. Later. Now he had to decide whether to follow the man. Given that he'd run out of options just before Hood appeared, he didn't seem to have much choice in the matter.

Hood had drawn his own cloak over his head. He led Guy down another alley, then a third, narrow and full of refuse. Guy slipped once on something rotten under his foot, caught his balance. Hood paused, glanced round at him, didn't speak.

They were nearly at the river. Guy could see the bridge now, the wall starting again at the far side of it. He could see guards, too, on the span, counted four of them, more at the other end. And under the bridge, a small boat and two guards waiting by it. This didn't look like an escape route to him. He thought about saying as much, decided that he didn't want to start a conversation with his enemy.

"Down here. You shouldn't have to swim but it gets pretty deep." A culvert, off the river, dark water rushing down through an iron grating. Guy frowned at Hood's dry clothing . "You didn't come in this way."

"No, I didn't." Hood was wading into the water, waist deep, pulling the grating aside. "Are you going to wait there to be caught?"

Guy grimaced, entered the bitterly cold water. Hood waited for him to go through the hole, then pulled the grating closed behind them. "Put your hand on the left wall, and keep going."

It got deeper, and Guy struggled to keep his feet in the chest high water with the footing uneven. It was pitch dark, too, and the rushing water was noisy. Hood was somewhere behind him; his nerves prickled. This wasn't the way the outlaws normally came in and out of the city; this was sheer sadism on Hood's part. Still, out was out. Once he was outside the walls he could take his revenge, for this and a thousand other offences. He pushed onwards in the darkness, imagining bloodshed.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Robin had only travelled this way once before. There were far less unpleasant ways to get out of Nottingham. The city was easy- it was the castle that usually took planning. Still, this route was close to where he'd met Gisborne, it was safe and he rather liked the idea of seeing Gisborne shivering and wet through when they emerged.

He thought that they should be near the end of the tunnel by now. Gisborne would no doubt try to attack him as soon as the man thought himself safe from John. Robin's bow had already proved itself resilient against water damage in the past; shooting with wet string and arrows were far from ideal but this would be close up. Robin readied the bow as he walked.

There was the half light of dusk at the end of the widening tunnel now, the water only up to their thighs. Robin could see Gisborne's silhouette in front of him. He waited until the man was nearly at the exit, then sent an arrow whistling past his ear.

"Just in case you were getting any ideas. Draw that sword and the next one will be through your skull".

Gisborne had paused as the arrow took flight, now started wading again, without looking round. Out of the tunnel, he climbed out onto the bank, started walking away from the bank. Robin followed him out of the water, arrow still trained on him.

"Drop your weapons." His shout wasn't loud, but it carried as far as the man in front of him. Gisborne didn't slow. Robin cursed. He really wasn't prepared to shoot the man in the back. Gisborne had dropped the cloak somewhere; his heavy leather looked saturated, stiff. Still, Robin knew how agile the man could be. He wasn't going to let Gisborne keep his weapons.

"Drop them. Or I'll put an arrow through your leg. It won't kill you, but you won't be running from any soldiers." He wasn't bluffing, quite, but he didn't want to have to cripple the man either. This wasn't the way his revenge would run.

Gisborne slowed, turned round. It was much darker now; Robin couldn't read his expression. He fought to keep the relief from showing on his own face as Gisborne dropped sword and knife on the ground.

Now what? They were both soaked, and the early autumn weather got cold at night. Somewhere they could find shelter, light a fire that couldn't be seen from the city walls. Fortunately there was a place that they should be able to reach before full darkness.

Robin wasn't sure what he was doing. He'd been acting on instinct since he stepped out in front of Gisborne in the city. He didn't want the man captured, tortured and hung by Prince John; he wanted Gisborne's fate to lie in his hands alone. Besides, John frustrated would suit his intentions in that direction. While the city guard and John's men were hunting Gisborne, Tuck's plans, whatever they might turn out to be, would be easier to put into play.

Now Gisborne, unarmed, cold and wet, was walking a few yards in front of him, unspeaking, following his directions. If the man lived, the outlaws would have to abandon the hideout that they were now approaching. Huge, tumbled rocks lay around the bottom of a low cliff, brambles grown in a dense bank around them. There was a way through, hard up against the cliff face, shuffling on hands and knees under the mass of brambles and rock until the space opened out above them; a cave, open at each end, formed from a huge block resting on the rocks on either side.

Robin headed for the back of the cave, his hand on his sword. Gisborne was waiting silently. Robin uncovered the cache, tossed the tinderbox to the other man. "There's dry wood here. Get a fire going." He pulled a large bundle out from beside the wood, dragged it over to the other side, out of Gisborne's way. The man was still following instructions, still silent.

The oiled cloth contained two blankets. Robin put down his weapons, started to strip his wet clothes off, all the time watching Gisborne. The fire was beginning to catch.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Guy was cold. The small fire wasn't helping; he was wet through. He needed to undress, get dry, before the fire could warm him. Still he hesitated. It was bad enough to be weaponless here, with his enemy. Another vulnerability, if he shed his leather. God, he had been sheriff! All Nottingham in his hand, and now he was reduced to stripping naked with Hood's sword at his throat. He kicked the dust, furiously, caught the other man's eye and subsided. He wanted to kill someone.

Hood had pulled his jerkin off, had leaned over to unlace his sodden boots. Guy started to unlace his own, glancing sideways frequently. Habit only, to note muscled back on the narrow frame, smooth arms, lightly haired chest. He pulled off his boots, emptied the water in them onto the ground, started to unbuckle his jacket. Hood tugged down leggings, unembarrassed, then picked up a blanket, wrapped it round his waist, took up his sword and moved to warm himself at the fire. Guy finished undressing, used the blanket to dry himself off, then walked over to the fire, blanket loosely draped over his shoulders. Hang modesty; he'd warm up faster that way.

A gust of wind set the flames dancing and both men shivered. "How the hell do you live like this, Hood?" Guy shook his head in disgust. "Like wild animals."

"Missing Locksley?" Hood's voice was bitter. "Blazing fire in the hall, servants bringing hot food? The dogs at your feet, spiced wine in your hand, some company to jest with? And a soft bed at night. Don't expect any sympathy from me, Gisborne."

Guy really hadn't. He crouched down by the flames. What the hell was Hood playing at, here? The man wouldn't- apparently couldn't- kill him, though he'd seen enough of his soldiers fall to those striped arrows to know that the outlaw had got over his temporary pacifism. But to rescue him from Nottingham, to stand here beside him, warming himself at their small fire, this went further than just a refusal to give up the moral high ground by murdering him.

Why else might the man feel obliged or inclined to save him? Guy struggled to think of anything that might be strong enough to stop him killing Hood, if their positions were reversed. Marian was between them. What could overrule that?

He stood up, glanced over at Hood. The man looked away hurriedly, uncharacteristically self conscious. Where exactly had the outlaw had been looking when Guy had intercepted his gaze? Was that it?

Past events slid into a far more straightforward pattern. Now he had the answer. This, Guy understood, no doubt far better than Hood himself did. The question now was what did he want to do about it.

As he framed the thought he knew the answer. He wanted Hood, spreadeagled underneath him in the dirt, wanted to see his face as Guy took him, hard and relentless. He'd bed him tonight, wipe that bloody superior expression off the man's face for good. Then he could kill the son of a bitch. This was the only end to this fucking awful day that he was prepared to tolerate.

His cock stirred at the though. Let Hood see that. If he had read the man right, it would only make his task easier. Guy dropped to his haunches again, letting his legs slide apart. God it was freezing. He wouldn't be cold for long though.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Robin kept his eyes firmly on Gisborne's face, still discomforted that Gisborne had caught him looking at the man's crotch. He'd been wondering, that was all. There had always been rumours around Gisborne, suggestions that he'd had a taste for other men. Robin had always discounted them; there was Marian. Besides, Allan would have known, and he wasn't a man to keep quiet about gossip. Still, the stories persisted. Robin had been wondering whether you could, somehow, tell; whether a man like that might be made differently. There was nothing abnormal about what he'd seen from that brief glance.

"I'll wager that this isn't the way your little gang usually keep warm on the cold nights." Gisborne's voice was a sneer. Robin wasn't sure what the man was implying. "We do have clothes, Gisborne. And blankets."

"Is that all you do? Huddle under blankets? Come on, Locksley. They'd do anything for you. Don't claim that you've never thought about taking advantage of that. Your servant, he'd bend over for you in an instant."

Robin was disgusted. To suggest that he and Much.... Maybe the rumours were right after all. "We're not perverts. None of us."

Gisborne shrugged. "I don't know about the others, but Allan's not too fussy about the sex of his bed partners, as long as they're warm and still breathing."

"You'd know, I suppose?" Robin snapped. The man was bluffing, had to be.

"I would, as it happens. If you've not taken advantage of that on a cold winter's night, you're a bloody fool."

Robin couldn't make himself believe that Gisborne was lying. Worse than the first betrayal, and unconfessed; it hurt. "Was that for money too?" he demanded bitterly.

Gisborne grinned at him. "No, that was for fun. His and mine. Don't pretend that you've never wanted a man, Hood."

"I certainly haven't." Robin stalked over to the other side of the cave; not far enough, unfortunately, but it was too dark to brave the brambles.

"You want me, Hood. I've seen it in your eyes. " Gisborne's voice was husky. "That's why you won't kill me, won't leave me alone. Admit it, do it, get it out of your bloody system and move on."

"I fucking well don't!" The prickling in Robin's groin went ignored, got stronger. With Gisborne; he felt nauseous at the idea, disturbed. "You think, after all that's happened, that I want to bloody kiss you?"

"No, I think you want to fuck me. Like I want to fuck you. Drop that blanket, stand there and tell me you don't want to do this."

Robin couldn't. His unwanted, inexplicable erection was jutting hard under the rough wool. Gisborne was shamelessly hard; Robin suddenly ached to touch him. Wrong, he told himself. Wrong with any man, let alone this one. "That's just immoral, Gisborne. "

"Coward!" Robin winced at Gisborne's amused tone. "We're outlaws, you and I. Outside the rules. Your traitor Allan was a more honest man than you are."

It was obvious baiting, Still, it stung. Gisborne ran a hand slowly up his own cock and Robin's twitched in response. "You want some of this. Admit it. There's no-one but you and I to know."

"And then what? I don't want you as lover, Gisborne. I want you dead."

"Do you really?" Gisborne raised an eyebrow. "You have an odd way of showing it. Then nothing. I have every intention of killing you, Hood. This doesn't change that."

Lust made everything seem clear. This didn't have to be gentle, didn't have to mean anything. Maybe this was the revenge Robin had been looking for. The sword was cold in his hand. That he had to deal with first.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hood was weakening. Guy waited, ready to nudge again if necessary. He was going to get what he wanted; his breath caught. Hood vulnerable, Hood beneath him. He struggled for patience. Let the bastard come to him.

The outlaw had picked up the rope that had tied the bundle of blankets. Guy blinked. What was this about? Hood was tying the rope around the stem of a particularly thick bramble bush, picking up a few scratches in the process. Guy backed off, cautious.

Hood measured the rope length to the fire. He looked over at Guy. "I'm not letting you near my weapons. Not having you loose when I'm not armed. So if you want to do this, you'll need to come here and lie on your front."

Guy shook his head. "No." Let the outlaw tie him up? Not if he could help it. That didn't fit in with his plans at all.

"Fine. In which case you can stay over there, and I and my bow and sword can stay over here,"

Fuck. Hood meant it. Guy edged over to the fire. "Come on then. If it makes you feel safer."

Hood smiled, crookedly. "Yes. It does. On your front; I want your ankle."

Guy dropped reluctantly to his hands and knees. "What's to stop me untying it?"

"I tie pretty good knots, Gisborne. It will take you a while. I think you'll be otherwise occupied."

He might be, at that. Still, a knot he could untie wasn't much of a restraint. He'd put up with this, for a short while. Then he'd have his own use for the rope.

Guy could feel warm hands around his ankle. He pictured the hands higher, grinned. He wasn't going to have to wait much longer.

Hood stood up, walked well out of reach and put down his sword, next to the bow and quiver. Then he walked back to face Guy, who had stood up next to the fire. The outlaw undid the knotted blanket, dropped it. Guy glanced down, smiled, stepped back, inviting the other man forward with an ironic bow. He saw the man's jaw stiffen as he came forward, within reach.

Here goes. Guy took a deep breathe and swung his fist as hard as he could. Hood went down and Guy was on top of him before he could scramble to his feet. He laughed into the outraged face.

"Did you think I was going to play nice?" His left hand was around Hood's cock; he squeezed, hard, kneeling up on the man's thighs. Gods, this was good. He pounded his right fist again into his enemy's face. Hood's eyes were half closed, his nose bleeding slightly; that was better. For the first time since his fight with John Guy felt in control. He bent down to close his mouth over Hood's, tongue forcing the man's mouth open, hand still tight around the hotness of the man's erection, jerking hard.

Hood's tongue wrapped around his. Knees hammered into his back, hands around his waist wrenched him over and Hood was on top of him, the firelight catching his grin, nose dripping blood. A knee slammed into Guy's swollen crotch and he bit back a scream, Hood's hands had trapped his wrists against the ground. The outlaw kneed him in the groin again, hard, and Guy gasped for breath.

"So what are we going to do now, Gisborne?" Hood was kneeling on either side of his thighs. Hands ground his wrists into the dirt. Eyes were inches from his own. "We can beat each other up till morning; is this what you were after?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
Robin really hoped that Gisborne had some better idea. It had been- satisfying- to get back on top, to hurt the man, but he wasn't looking forward to the idea of tussling all night. Gisborne had all but promised something better.

The man glared up at him, then broke into a genuine smile. "We're going to play nice, I imagine. For which we will both need our hands."

Robin reluctantly released Gisborne's wrists, caught his breath as one went straight to his cock. The other slid up his stomach, hand splayed across his chest, pinching a nipple and his breath jolted again. He glanced downwards at the man's groin. That was the boundary of decency; not what Gisborne might do to him, but what he might do back. Holding his breath for a moment, he placed a hand on the man's stomach, ran his fingers through the thick hair, veered off just before touching the dark, thick cock. Cursing himself for a coward, he took a breath and moved his right hand firmly onto the end, spat on his left hand and wrapped it around the thick base. Familiar, clumsy movements but the object was different. Thicker, shorter- he dared another glance downwards. Yes, darker.

There was nothing clumsy about Gisborne's hands. The smooth motions were just hard enough, just fast enough and he had a moment of slight disappointment that this was going to be over too soon, before Gisborne let go, grabbed his wrists and pulled them upwards to chest level.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Damn, this was hotter than it had any right to be! Guy was long experienced at this, didn't make a habit of coming too soon, but there was something about Hood's hands, awkward as they were, which was driving him absolutely wild. He had no intention of sitting around half the night with Hood waiting to go again, so it was time to slow this down a bit. He knew exactly where he wanted to come, but the outlaw might take some persuasion.

Guy laughed at Hood's bereft expression. This time he'd managed to shake the man's calm.

"Let me up," he suggested. Hood's eyes narrowed. Wise, not to trust him, but this time they were too evenly matched, and he had the damn rope round his ankle. He wasn't going to jump the man, not yet. He waited, and finally Hood rocked back on his heels, stepped outside the range of the rope while Guy got to his feet.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Naked, Robin faced Gisborne. He ached badly. Gisborne was a bastard; worth remembering here. Still, Robin's inhibitions were gone. He wanted to run his hands all over that dark haired body, get his fingers back around that thick cock. What was Gisborne waiting for? If the man was having second thoughts Robin really would kill him this time. He brushed his fringe away from his eyes, stepped inside the rope's range.

"Come on, Gisborne. What's stopping you?"

Gisborne stepped forward, ran a hand down Robin's chest, across his stomach. His eyes were as cold as ever, He moved behind Robin, who could feel fingers brushing over the long scar. Arms wrapped around him, crossing over his chest, Gisborne's cock was pushing up against his buttocks. A low voice in his ear; "Let's leave jerking off for the little boys, shall we? I'm going to fuck you, Hood."

It sounded like a threat. Robin shivered involuntarily and Gisborne caught that, laughed. "You really don't have any idea of what we're going to do here, do you? Your first time; I could go easy on you, take it slow." A tongue licked his ear, running across the lobe. "But, you know, I don't think I will." Teeth closed on his earlobe, hard, and Robin gasped, controlled himself. He could take this, take anything the bastard did to him.

"You can try what you like, Gisborne. Just remember that I'll take my turn."

Laughter in his ear "You won't have the nerve."

"Oh, just try me."

"Right, I will," A final push of his hips and he appeared in front of Robin. "On your fucking knees, outlaw,"

 

* * * * * * * * * *

Guy was feeling extremely pleased with himself. He had Hood just about committed to letting him try anything. His vision would soon be reality, and all sorts of fun to be had along the way. He looked at the motionless man. "Not up for this? You give up easily."

"You first."

Guy frowned "No."

"You can fuck me first, and yes, I've got some idea of what that entails. But this you do first, or the deal's off. I'm not doing this for your amusement, Gisborne. I'm after some of my own."

Hood was stone faced, adamant. Guy cursed silently. He wanted this under his control. Still, there was something to be said for being in a position to drive Hood wild. "Not all the way," he warned. "I want you hard when I take you." Was that the slightest of flinches? Gods, keeping the man off balance was going to be easy.

He came up face to face with Hood, grinned at the man's smile. "I hope you're grateful, Hood. I don't do this for just anyone." His left hand was around the man's balls, squeezing hard enough to make the man wince. Then he was on his knees on the stone of the cave floor, his tongue curling around the outlaw's cock.

Long, smooth, slender; he closed his eyes, imagining what it might feel like to be fucked by it. Pity really. With any other man he'd have been satisfied to take his turn about. But Hood was never, ever going to get on top of him.

Guy slid his mouth over the stiff cock, listening to the response from the man above him. Hood's hands rested on his shoulders. He felt the grip tighten as he worked. A voice from above him

"Did you do this to Allan?"

Arrogant sod. Guy pulled away long enough to rock back on his heels. "Once or twice. Did Marian ever do it to you?"

He was expecting the punch, rolled with it. "Don't ask personal questions if you don't want them back again. I doubt that you ever got further with Madam Hot-and-cold than I did, for all that talk about marriage."

"Why did you want her, if your taste is for men?" Hood was frowning down at him. Did the man want him to do this, or to talk? "She wasn't like most women. She knew her own mind; she'd fight me to get her way."

"Like Isabella."

"Nothing like Isabella. She's just a dangerous cow." He creased an eyebrow at Hood. "So that's why you were dallying with my sister. You thought her like Marian."

Hood shook his head. "Not really. I was just," he paused. "Trying to live again, I suppose."

"This is a much better way. You'll have more pleasure from me than from my hellcat sister." His mouth returned to its occupation while his hand slid between Hood's thighs and he pushed two fingers, stiff, into the man's arse.

Hood started and grabbed behind him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Guy pulled out, got his mouth free to reply.

"Get used to it, outlaw. You'll have far more than a finger up there soon."

His lips pulled at the man's foreskin and Hood groaned. Guy waited until the man had settled again, then pushed up once more, harder and further this time.

* * * * * * * * * *

This time Robin was determined to ignore it. It hurt, but Gisborne was certainly meeting his side of the bargain in other ways. It felt very odd, very unnatural. Robin didn't want to think about how something larger might feel.

He slid his hands into Gisborne's hair. Black, like Isabella's, like Marian's. Odd to have come closer to his enemy than he had to his wife. It wasn't important, he told himself. Just physical. There was nothing between himself and Gisborne except mutual hatred and this temporary lust.

Robin was concentrating now on keeping quiet, muffling his reactions. Whatever Gisborne might intend for later, Robin was determined to come now, despite, or, he was beginning to suspect, because of the rhythmic thrusting up his arse.

Somehow Gisborne knew. At the last possible moment the fingers were gone, and he stood up. Robin fought for composure, his hands automatically going down to ease his agonising need. They were intercepted. "Hard, remember?" Gisborne's black eyes were intense. "Now my turn."

Hell, so long as Gisborne did something Robin was past caring as to what. Gisborne's smile had gone; he looked utterly focussed, He leaned forward, dropped one of Robin's wrists to pull Robin's head towards him. His tongue was stiff in Robin's mouth, exploring. Could a man come from being kissed? Robin was beginning to think it possible. He pushed himself against Gisborne's body, feeling the man's erection driving into his stomach. God, he wanted more. Enemy, he reminded himself. That seemed far away.

An instant later Robin's feet were swept out from under him and he went down hard, the bare skin along his spine scraping painfully along the ground. Gisborne was still standing, looking down at him. "Stay there." The man walked away; going for the blankets, Robin realised. He propped himself up on his elbow, reached around to his back to finger the scrapes. Damn, that hurt. He was tempted to get up, walk away, but he knew that he had to see how this ended.

Gisborne had picked up a blanket, was folding it, neatly, his erection still stiff; an incongruous sight. He knelt down next to Robin, slid a hand under his rear. Robin let him push the folded wool under his buttocks. "Might as well be comfortable." Robin wasn't sure that comfortable was how he'd describe things. He felt somewhat ridiculous, lying on his back, his cock pushed towards the sky. Gisborne pulled his knees apart, settled himself, kneeling, between them. Robin's breathing had speeded up again. What was the man going to do?

* * * * * * * * * *  
Guy looked down at the man propped up beneath him. Nearly there. The palms of his hands shoved at Robin's shoulders and the man went down flat on the ground. He could see apprehension on Hood's face, but there was no protest.

Guy slid a hand over Hood's flat belly, flicked over his cock, around his balls and to his raised arse. Fuck, he was going to come inside the man, just as he'd imagined. He pulled his hand back, licked his fingers, pushed them back inside. Hood felt that, he could tell; his cock was twitching, his breathing faster. Guy pushed a third finger in and Hood gasped. That was enough; Guy wasn't waiting any longer. He spat on his hand, rubbed his cock, shifted forwards to push it gradually in.

Hood was hurting. Guy smiled. He was the first ever to do this, the hole fucking tight. He pushed harder, bent down, one hand balancing himself on the ground, the other easing his cock further in. Hood had started to sweat, was fighting back protest. Guy didn't want him brave; he wanted him screaming. He thrust, hard as he could, felt the man convulse under him. Better. He did it again, and again, felt himself slip inch by inch further inside. He paused to assess the man under him. Robin's eyes were closed, his erection going limp. Couldn't have that; Guy shifted his hand from the base of his cock to his mouth, spat and wrapped his palm around Hood's cock. Started moving, resisting the temptation to thrust in time. Neither of them was going to come until he was good and ready, which meant when he had Hood so confused between pleasure and pain that the bastard would come shrieking.

The flesh under his hand was hardening, as Guy knew it would. Hood's eyes were still closed. Guy pulled a couple of inches out, slammed back and Hood let out a cry. Guy imagined soft flesh ripping. He squeezed Hood's cock, moved steadily up and down it, started to move his hips in time.

* * * * * * * * * *

Robin was in a nightmare, and he'd walked in with his eyes open. He was being ripped apart, and his cock was hurting, was going to come in pain to match the agony in his arse. He couldn't help responding, even as each of Gisborne's thrusts ripped though him, and he didn't know why. All he could do was fight the pain, rake the body above him with futile hands,

There must be something he could do. He opened his eyes, saw dark hair hanging down over his face, Gisborne's black eyes laughing at him. This is what Gisborne had wanted; to hurt him. Of course; this was what Gisborne always wanted. Why would sex be any different?

Gods, it hurt! Why did men submit to this? Allan; he couldn't imagine Allan putting up with this. Or causing it. If Allan did this, there must be a way for it not to hurt. Robin closed his eyes, tried to imagine his friend on top of him, tried to relax. found, to his surprise that the pain wasn't so bad, that way. And what Gisborne was doing with his hand, that was, if one imagined someone else's hand in place of his, pleasurable. He could feel his climax building; he stopped fighting it, grinned up at Gisborne through the tears in his eyes. His fingers dug into Gisborne's shoulders, he slid his left hand around the man's neck, pulled his mouth down, sunk his teeth into the man's lower lip.  
When he released Gisborne's head he could see the frustration in the man's eyes. Robin laughed, adjusted his hips on the blanket to let the man go deeper. It was bruising but now he wanted it nonetheless. He wanted to win. "Go on, bastard" he murmured. "Fuck me harder, if you can"

Gisborne responded, slamming his hips into the man below him. Robin took it with barely a wince. His concentration was on the sensation in his cock; he came over Gisborne's stomach, with a small noise of pleasure. Now he didn't want Gisborne to stop, despite the pain, but the man too was coming, swearing at him. "Fuck you, Hood. Fuck. "

Gisborne pulled out roughly and Robin did cry out for a moment. So bloody sore. He pushed a hand under himself; it came out dark with blood in the firelight. He was streaked with sweat; he was already starting to feel the cold again. He pushed the other man's body aside, rolled off the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, moving out of range of the roped man.

* * * * * * * * * *  
Guy was dizzy from his climax, baffled by what had happened. He'd been just where he wanted to be, and suddenly the bastard had started enjoying it. He knew he had hurt the man; he could see the dark stains on the blanket round Hood's shoulders.

Hood was bringing over more wood for the dying fire. Guy saw the awkwardness in his walk, thought of commenting, wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to gloat but wasn't entirely sure that he'd won.

Hood rebuilt the fire, lay down cautiously on his side by it, out of reach.

"This won't happen again." His voice was calm.

"Aren't you going to want your turn?" Guy strove for a similar steadiness.

"No." The man looked at him, unsmiling.

Guy shook his head. "You enjoyed that too much, outlaw. You'll want more."

Hood laughed at him, a surprisingly light sound. "As you pointed out earlier, I've no shortage of potential partners. I've no need to come to you for anything."

The outlaw stretched his legs out. He'd picked up his sword and bow. "Go to sleep, Gisborne. I've no interest in talking to you further tonight."

Guy wasn't going to sleep in front of his enemy. They passed the rest of the night silently. When it was light enough to see well, Hood dressed in his still wet clothes, unconcerned under Guy's gaze, headed towards the tunnel under the brambles. He turned back for a final word.

"Go where you will, but leave me and mine alone. "Out of my system", you said; well now you are. If our paths cross again I'll not hesitate to kill you."

Guy watched him out of sight, then turned to the rope on his ankle. First his treacherous sister, and some way to get back into the graces of his erratic prince. After that, when he had friends and resources again, he'd deal with Hood properly. "Out of his system", well, Guy was going to have something to say about that. The knot came loose, and he smiled. Isabella, first.


End file.
